She drops her hands and presses her lips together. Another thought occurs to me. One that I definitely shouldn’t share: apparently, bitterness causes wrinkles.
“Wow. You’ve given this some thought.”
Is this what my future looks like? Still alone in another twenty years, cynical and blaming it on the men I’ve known? God, I hope not. I always pictured myself marrying eventually. Not right now, but I have no desire to spend my best years without someone to share them with.
“I have plenty of time to think,” she replies. “It’s just me, myself, and I these days. That’s how I like it.”
“You don’t get lonely?” I ask.
She shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, but everyone does. Lonely beats heartbroken any day of the fuckin’ week.”
Suddenly, I’m not so sure I agree. I can’t help wondering how bleak her life is. Does she go home at the end of the day and find everything exactly as she left it? Does she sit on her couch with a chicken salad for dinner and mull over everything that’s gone wrong? Does she have pets, or is she completely and utterly alone?
I don’t want to be alone.
I won’t always live with Seth. I’m already thinking about moving out, but I have no friends here besides Ashlin, and Seth would be gutted if I moved in with her. If I try to keep my heart to myself, am I going to end up like this thrice-divorced fighter, only without all the sex I’m sure she’s had along the way?
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” I say distractedly, and beeline across the room to Devon, who has already gotten rid of the ring girl. Grabbing him by the hand, I ignore the questioning looks from the others and drag him outside and around the corner of the building, into a more secluded area. Then, just as he opens his mouth—probably to ask what the hell I’m doing—I stretch onto my tiptoes and kiss him.
ChapterNine
Devon
Oh, my God.
She’s kissing me.
Harley freaking Isles is kissing me. Her lips are petal-soft, in contrast to her firm, toned body. They part on a sigh, and although I have no idea why this is happening, I deepen the kiss, sweeping my tongue inside her mouth, getting my first taste of her. She has a faint peppermint flavor. She must have brushed her teeth before coming out tonight.
Her body presses closer, and she winds her arms around my neck. I shiver, loving the friction of her nails on my scalp. Of their own volition, my hands journey down her back and cup the perfect ass I’ve admired from afar more times than I can count. It feels just as good as it looks. I’m not surprised. I’ve seen her use the squat rack like a boss.
But why is she kissing me? Why now?
Surely the opportune time would have been right after our run-in with Karson, so what’s happened since then to change her mind?
I pull back, shaking my befuddled head. “Why?”
She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip, uncertainty flashing across her features. “Because I want you. Don’t you want me too? Or was that just some forbidden taboo bullshit?”
“I want you,” I assure her, caressing the side of her face. “This just seems to have come out of nowhere.”
She shrugs. “I changed my mind.”
Her gaze dips, and I catch a glimpse of vulnerability that makes my heart squeeze. She’s afraid I’m going to reject her.As if.
“Look at me, Harley.”
She raises her chin, hazel eyes glinting defiantly. Fuck, I love that expression. My heart bangs inside my ribcage like a jackhammer.
“Kissing you is a dream come true.”
With that, I reclaim her mouth. To my surprise, she softens into me, going pliant in my arms. I pictured her more as the type to battle for control, but I like this. It’s as if she’s allowing me to see a side of her that no one else does. Her tits brush my chest. One of my hands settles on the skin of her lower back, which is exposed by the outfit she’s wearing. She probably intended it to be unsexy but it’s been driving me crazy all night. I love the feel of her. I’ve touched her before, but not like this. In training, there are other sets of eyes on us and I can’t slip up, but in this moment I can explore her satiny skin the way I want to.
She shivers and stretches, reminding me of a cat—all litheness and repressed energy. When she rubs against my dick, which I’ve been doing my damnedest to ignore, a groan tears from my throat. I’m hard as hell, straining against my zipper, trying to get closer to her. She freezes, her eyes meeting mine. Have I freaked her out? But then, slowly, she undulates her hips. Teasing me. She does it again, and again, I groan. I’m doing my best to behave, but if she keeps that up, I’m going to lose my shit. When her hand goes to my belt, I summon the most willpower I’ve ever displayed and stop her.
Her brows knit together, and her swollen lips pout. “Don’t you want more?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “But not here in some dark alley. You deserve better than that.”
